Christ, he’d been right. It was a woman. He cursed. The ramifications ran through his head and Alex had to fight to keep his emotions in check. If she is bloody well involved in this, he was going to . . .

“What woman?” the monk said an instant too late, and then added somewhat accusingly, “You are a Scot.”

“Aye, with friends and family on both sides of the border, which is why I’m here. If I figured it out, how long do you think it will take the others to do the same? She is in danger, and I can help.”

“I told them before, I don’t know anything. I never met the person who left the note. I’m only a courier.”

“Perhaps,” Alex agreed. “But I think you know more than you are saying.” He leaned forward, taking a stab in the dark. But he had always been good with a blade. “You saw her, didn’t you?”

The monk wasn’t old or experienced enough to have learned to control his expression, and Alex easily detected the flash of fear in his dark eyes. “No! I told you I never saw her!”

Her.

The lad quickly realized his mistake and, eyes wide, clamped his mouth shut as if it might make him mute. But it was too late.

Alex’s face turned as hard as granite. “You did see her. Tell me what you know.”

No wonder the English hadn’t had to torture him; the lad fell apart at the first threat. Christ, what was Bruce thinking to rely on such innocents?

The monk started to babble and sob. “I didn’t. I swear. I never saw her face.”

He was too scared to be lying. “But you saw something,” Alex said.

The lad wasn’t a complete coward. He took a deep breath and tried to get himself under some semblance of control. “No,” he lied.

Alex fought to control his impatience. He was tempted to drag the young churchman to his feet and give him a good shake. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides. “I am trying to protect her, damn it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I have no wish to see a woman harmed, and if they find her, you can be assured she will be.”

“But you are one of them.”

He was. Though for some reason it made Alex grit his teeth. “Aye, but we are not all monsters.” He paused, and then said intently, “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.”

Alex waited.

“She was wearing a dark cloak—the color of claret—trimmed with ermine, but I only saw her from the back. I arrived at the confessional a few minutes early by accident and saw her leaving.”

Alex’s heart was beating so fast he could barely get out the words. “Describe her.”

“I didn’t see her.”

Alex’s patience was set on a razor’s edge. “Tall, short, thin, round?”